Goodbye and Hello
by Omoni
Summary: After a sudden loss rocks the Fire Nation, Zuko struggles through his grief, while Mai struggles through problems of her own.


**Goodbye and Hello**

He would never forget the day it happened for as long as he lived, until the day he died. Something like that could never be erased away from memory.

The day had started off normally, really. Zuko was woken up by Mai, in her own intimate way, and together, much later, the two of them got dressed to greet the day. Everything had seemed so perfectly normal that neither of them batted an eye.

It wasn't until later that Zuko realised that Iroh hadn't joined them for breakfast.

"Uncle?" he called, looking around Iroh's vast apartments within the palace. It had already been well over five years, but Iroh had insisted on staying at Zuko's side for longer than the one year he originally planned, especially after Zuko had almost been assassinated (which had, unfortunately, taken place right before Iroh's eyes).

Zuko had made sure that his uncle would never be without anything. He made sure that Iroh got everything he wanted, at any expense, even if what was wanted was ridiculously expensive or frivolous. For all of the years that Iroh had stayed at his side and always believed in him, Zuko wanted to make sure that he knew that Zuko appreciated him.

Now, he found the apartments too vast. There was something in the air, something that set his nerves on edge. He could feel himself shaking a little, although for what reason, he wasn't sure. Something didn't feel right. It felt too quiet, like the rooms were empty.

Zuko called for his uncle again, a little louder. Sometimes, Iroh slept like a log, and could only be roused when screamed at. Zuko knocked on a few doors, poked his head in, but only silence greeted him.

Somehow, deep down, he already knew. He could feel it in his very bones, deep to the core. But his heart didn't want to face what his gut already knew, and he stubbornly persisted, calling louder, his voice getting a bit more frantic.

When he opened the bedroom door and looked in, it was almost like his own eyes were trying to protect him from what he would see. He looked everywhere else but where his uncle lay, silent, in his own bed.

When Zuko's eyes fell on the shape under the blankets and focused, something deep and primal seemed to race through him, and he couldn't smother his own wail of dismay. Even when, upon hearing the cries, Mai and his soldiers found him, he found he couldn't cease his shouts, couldn't clamp down on the agony that blazed within his heart.

Mai held him to her, holding him with strong arms and cool hands, rocking him a little, her own cheeks damp, but he could barely feel it. He clung to her, the sobs wracking his body like nothing else, and all he could see was his uncle's peaceful face, like he was sleeping, except that he was not.

* * *

The preparations were done in a haze.

Zuko barely knew what he was doing, really. When someone asked him a question, he didn't hear it. When someone spoke to him, he didn't even notice them there. Only Mai managed to get through to him, be it to make sure he had something to eat, or that he slept, or that he took care of himself. It wouldn't be until months later that he learned that, in his stupor, Mai had handled everything for him, with her cool efficiency and calm demeanour, all while he spiralled into the well of his own grief.

For the most part, he remained in that dazed state for the whole thing. Even when his friends joined him from the corners of the world to comfort him and say goodbye to Iroh, he barely saw them. He could tell, though, that he was scaring them a little, but he just couldn't find a way to care.

The only time he seemed to break through the waters of his agony was when they were about to set the funeral pyre alight. Something in him snapped, and before he knew it, he was on his feet and pushing the sage holding the torch away.

"_No,_ you can't do that!" he burst out, his voice shrill and unrecognisable to his own ears. "You can't do that! _You can't do that!"_

Mai leapt to her feet and pulled him away, whispering to him that it was okay. He could feel his whole body shaking, feel the tears pouring from his eyes, but he couldn't move. It took every ounce of strength Mai had to pull him away. When the pyre was lit, he looked away, hiding his face into her neck and uttering a keening sound.

* * *

Mai's heart ached for him.

For days, Zuko stayed in bed, huddled on one side and curled up in a ball. He barely moved, only getting up to use the washroom, and even that was rare, since he ate and drank so little. He didn't say a word, just stared at nothing, occasionally submitting to silent tears or exhaustion.

She understood. Out of everyone in his family, Iroh had been the only one who had never given up on him. Iroh had never been ashamed of him, nor had he ever stopped loving him.

But she also knew that Zuko was steeped in regret. Regret that Iroh had never returned to Ba Sing Se. Regret that he didn't have a chance to say a formal goodbye. Regret that he wasn't able to give Iroh everything he could have imagined.

It was so sudden, she knew. The healers had said it was something to do with the heart's fire, how sometimes, without warning, it just winked out. There was never pain, but it wasn't uncommon for people of Iroh's age bracket to just fade in their sleep.

But there was also a problem that she was dealing with herself, one that she couldn't deal with alone. The timing was bad, horrific, even, but despite the threats, double-checks, and protests on her side, the problem remained.

* * *

Zuko stayed bedridden for weeks. He said nothing and did nothing. While he ate some, he wasn't eating enough, and he grew dangerously thin. The healers were starting to fret over it, especially when he developed a cough. It appeared, to them, that Zuko was intent on following his uncle.

That just wasn't going to happen as long as Mai was around. She had let him grieve for a long time, supporting him, caring for him, and holding him in the darkest hours. But the moment he got sick and the moment it became clear that if he didn't pull out soon, he would die, Mai got angry. And when Mai got angry, no one was safe.

When it was exactly three weeks to the day, Mai snapped. Something in her just broke. She was carrying a soup dish, thinking that it was pointless to even try to get him to drink it, when she felt a flash of white-hot anger burst through her. She stood in the doorway, shaking with her anger.

And then, without a sound, she flung the soup bowl down to the ground at her feet. It shattered, the sound loud and grating, and the hot liquid splashed her toes, but she didn't feel it.

Zuko's eyes, hollow and flat, moved up slowly, from the floor, to the remains of the bowl, then finally, to Mai's livid face. He didn't move from where he lay on his side, however, but the fact that she had got his attention, however minute, spurred her on.

She stormed over to his side, knelt down in front of him, and stared right into his eyes. Slowly, his eyes focused on hers, like it was a struggle. She reached forward, grabbed his thin face roughly between her hands, and hissed, "Get up, you fool."

Zuko didn't move, didn't react.

"Get up!" She snapped again, louder. She tightened her hold on his face, hoping that something would make him feel again. "Get up, get up!"

It happened so quickly that even she didn't see it coming. One of his hands, wretchedly thin, reached up and took hold of her wrist. She loosened her grip, but didn't let go. "Get. Up," she snarled.

Something sparked in his eyes, but only for a second, before dying out. His hand dropped, and his eyes started moving to the side, away from her gaze.

Mai shook him, forcing him to look back at her. "Zuko, listen to me. I miss him too. I loved him to. But you need to keep on going. He would_ kick your ass_ if he saw you like this! _Get up_!"

The spark came back, and lingered. Mai swallowed, something clogging up her throat, but she forced it back. "You need to get up," she repeated. "There's something I need your help with, something that's come up, something that only you can help with, because it's _your fault, you asshole, and I can't do it alone!_"

Her voice broke, and to her surprise, her eyes filled and overflowed. She kept her glare, but it was obviously marred by her tears.

Zuko's eyes met hers again, and they were focused. They were clear. Feather-light, he touched her arms with his hands, using his hold as leverage help himself sit up. She pulled her hands away and helped him, propping him up on the pillows behind him. Then, she pulled herself up beside him on the bed, her hands on his shoulders, her eyes practically glued to his. He stared back, his face drawn with his grief.

"Zuko," she said angrily, her voice as cold as steel. "You idiot."

"Mai," he whispered back, his voice scratchy with disuse.

"Yes, of course," she snapped.

Zuko whispered her name again, his eyes wavering, and she felt her anger die out. She nodded in reply, and he shut his eyes, lowering his head. She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, gently this time, and he reached up and took hold of her forearms, his hands trembling.

She leaned in and pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. Together, they shared a cry, without words.

* * *

After that, Zuko stayed awake. While he didn't get up too much, given his weakened state, the fact that he was eating, even hungry, seemed to make it clear enough that he was on his way to recovery. Mai stayed at his side, helping him through it, especially when, at times, he was so wracked with his own grief that his sobs turned into retching.

But she was always there. When he closed his eyes and dropped into sleep, she was at his side. When he opened them again, she was never too far away. She helped him through it all.

By the fourth week, he was on his feet again.

* * *

A few days after he left his bed to walk around for the first time in a month, Zuko suddenly vanished from the palace. It naturally caused a stir amongst the entire governmental body. Granted, it wasn't unusual for the Fire Lord to vanish for a few days and then return like nothing happened, but given his physical state and the fact that Mai hadn't gone with him was enough to cause alarm.

Mai, however, knew exactly where he had gone.

* * *

Zuko wasn't really sure what he thought he was doing here, but it mattered little. The fact was that he was here, and that was that.

The sand beneath his bare feet was still hot, despite the setting sun. He held his sandals in his hand, the other holding a pack of clothing and essentials. As he made his way along the shoreline, his still-tender mind supplied him with bittersweet memories of a past long behind him.

Oh, it hurt. It hurt like nothing else in the world. It hurt so bad that sometimes he thought he was the only one who had ever felt pain before.

But every single time the idea that he was alone ripped through his heart, he only had to shut his eyes and remember that, even now, he wasn't alone.

Zuko stopped, looking up into the hillside. When he married Mai, he had also decided to restore the summer home of his family on Ember Island, as a sort of wedding present for them both. They had used it every year since, and once more the place gleamed with repair and life.

But he couldn't help but think of the ghost it used to be, one that housed both fleeting happiness and endless agonies.

"Zuko!"

He jerked in surprise, then turned around, dropping both bag and sandals in his shock. "Mai!" he cried, watching her run down the shoreline towards him.

Mai stopped in front of him, her face drawn with both worry and annoyance. "Going for a swim?" she asked dryly.

Zuko smiled, and she blinked up at him, obviously startled by it. He could understand, really. He felt like he hadn't smiled in ages. Without a word, he took her into his arms and pulled her close, burying his face into her hair and shutting his eyes. Mai didn't move for a moment, but then eventually relaxed, sliding her arms around his waist and squeezing.

Very softly, he whispered into her hair, "Thank you." His voice broke, and he wanted to say so much more, but he wasn't able to. He shook, and she held onto him tighter, nodding slowly. She understood.

They stood in silence, holding the embrace for a long time. It was only when Zuko felt that the sand had cooled under his feet that he pulled away slowly. Mai looked up at him, frowning, her face etched with worry. It touched him.

"Zuko," she said flatly, her mouth set. "I'm pregnant."

Zuko froze, something grabbing his insides so hard that he almost felt the ground slide away from him. He stared, speechless, feeling his legs wobble a little at the impact of what she just said.

Mai crossed her arms, shifting from foot to foot, looking away. "Say something," she muttered.

"Wh...when?" he croaked out.

Mai sighed. "If I were to guess, I'd say music night."

Zuko's eyes went huge. Music night. Music night...two weeks before...before....

"You remember, right?" she asked softly.

He nodded. Iroh had, in a fit of good spirits, invited the former naval crew that was under Zuko's command all of those years together for an impromptu music night, like they used to have on the ship. Zuko had firmly stated that he would not be participating, which was no change from those days, but then Ji brought out the fire whiskey and Mai drank a little too much and started dancing in a way that made all of the blood leave his brain...

"I remember," he said hoarsely.

"Baby," she mumbled.

"Baby," he agreed, his voice soft. The moment the word left his lips, his face broke out into a smile, just as tears filled his eyes. Mai looked up at him, then leaned in close and touched his face lightly. He closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly, nuzzling her hands. He laughed, a low, raspy chuckle. "Your problem, the one that was my fault," he realised, remembering the words she had used to bring him out of his depression.

Mai flushed a little. "Well, it was."

"I didn't force you to get tipsy and start dancing like that!"

"No, but you wouldn't participate without me being there, and even then you were being such a baby."

"You're not exactly Miss Social either!" he protested.

"Hey, I drank the damned whiskey, didn't I? That's pretty social, if you ask me."

He laughed again, tugging her closer and hugging her again. It wasn't the fervent embrace of a man caught in his excitement, but the embrace of a man who has suddenly been given something he didn't realise he wanted. Mai relaxed in his arms.

"Zuko, are you okay with this?" She asked suddenly.

Without hesitation, he nodded. "Yeah. I mean..." and here his voice caught a little. "I'm sad, because Uncle...he won't...he won't..." When he felt her nod against him, he went on. "But I'm also happy. Very happy."

"Me, too."

There was a brief silence, broken when Mai suddenly whispered, "Zuko, I'm so, so sorry about Uncle Iroh."

Zuko hugged her tightly, nodding into her hair and shutting his eyes tightly. He didn't say a word, and neither did she. There was nothing else more to be said.


End file.
